


Break your little heart

by dancingsweetheart129



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad, suicidal thoughts mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingsweetheart129/pseuds/dancingsweetheart129
Summary: “Whatcha doin’ there, Babe?” Kon asked as he leaned down to pick one up.It was about his death.“Okay, whatever is going on here, I’m positive it’s not healthy,” Kon said, looking around at the other ones.





	Break your little heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was a drabble request from a few months back on my tumblr. Come follow me @mayleebaby28

Tim wasn’t exactly _normal._

Anyone could have told you that.

But this was out there even for Tim.

Kon had been off helping Clark on a mission, and when he came back a few days later, he had found Tim sitting on the floor in the living room, couch and table pushed to the side, surrounded by papers.

“Tim?” Kon asked, but he got no response. He started carefully stepping over the pages, whatever they were might be important. “Babe, I’m home.”

“Hm,” Tim hummed, looking at a piece of paper in his hands. Kon finally looked down and actually read whatever they were.

News articles.

They were all _news articles._

“Whatcha doin’ there, Babe?” Kon asked as he leaned down to pick one up.

It was about his death.

“Okay, whatever is going on here, I’m positive it’s not healthy,” Kon said, looking around at the other ones.

Batman’s death, Nightwing’s death, Robin’s, Jason’s, Bart’s, everyone in the community who had died.

And then there were some on his parents. Images of a very young Tim grieving his parents slapped onto the articles.

He turned to see what Tim was clutching in his hands.

Another one about his death. And it was _recent._

“You died,” Tim mumbled, still not looking up.

“No, Tim, I didn’t,” Kon shook his head. “I passed out, sure, and Clark had to fly me out, but I’m alive and well.”

“How do I know?” Tim asked, hands visibly shaking. It was then that Kon noticed the extra cuts and bruises on his legs, he was only wearing his boxers and one of Kon’s t-shirts.

“You get beat up on patrol, babe?” He asked, kneeling down in front of him. “It’s me, I promise. When’s the last time you slept?”

A shrug.

Of course.

“Okay, let me take this,” Kon said, grabbing the page. It was from some trashy tabloid, hardly reputable. “It’s me. I’m alive and well.”

Tim looked up at him and blinked owlishly. He didn’t look right.

“Touch me,” Kon said, and Tim’s shaking hand reached out to feel his chest, still covered by his symbol.

As soon as Tim’s hand made contact, his face crumpled and his eyes filled with tears.

“Babe-“

“You died,” Tim cried as he threw himself forward, knocking Kon back on his ass. Papers crumbled underneath of him, but he just focused on the man in his arms.

“Tim, hey, no,” Kon shook his head, running his hands through Tim’s hair. “That trashy website got it wrong, I wasn’t even close to death.”

He pushed Tim back gently to look at his face.

“Babe-“

“Don’t ask,” Tim shook his head. “No, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since all of this!” Tim shrieked, motioning around to the hundreds of pages laying on their living room floor.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here, no need to shout,” Kon said, running his hands over Tim’s shoulders.

“I got benched from patrol last night,” Tim mumbled, picking up another page of a story about Damian. “I went radio silence and went after a drug lord, unprepared.”

“Why would you do something that dangerous?” Kon asked, furrowing his brows. Tim didn’t say anything, just let out a few sobs, tears falling to the paper in his hands.

_Oh._

“Tim,” Kon sighed, cupping his face in his hands and wiping away a few tears. He hadn’t been this bad in _years_. Had been happy, semi-healthy. _They_ were happy, together.

Tim sobbed again.

“Tim, I would have come home to an empty house,” Kon mumbled, running his hand through Tim’s hair again. “Then I would have been all alone.”

Tim’s hands gripped at his calves as he shook. The cuts on them were fresh, still reddened around them, and he was going to reopen them if he kept doing that.

“Let’s go put you in bed, okay?” Kon asked, scooping Tim up and heading to their bedroom.

He dug out some clean clothes, the ones Tim had been wearing smelled kind of a few days unwashed. Tim was sitting on the bed, trembling like he was cold.

“Clean clothes will make you feel a bit better,” Kon said, pulling the shirt off over Tim’s head. He pulled at his underwear, getting very little help from his boyfriend but getting them anyways. He did his best to redress him in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants.

“I wanted to be with you,” Tim said, finally finding his voice.

“Tim,” Kon said, leaning down to get eye level with him and taking his face in his hands so he couldn’t look away. “This? How you feel right now? Would you ever want me to feel this way?”

Tim shook his head.

“Then we need to get you some help,” Kon said, and Tim’s eyes widened. “Because I want you to keep being with me for a long time.”

Tim didn’t say anything, just cast his eyes downward.

“You promise me you’re not going to try that again,” Kon said, and Tim closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

“Please just be here with me,” He mumbled, and Kon nodded.

The two crawled into bed, arranging themselves how they normally would with Tim’s head on Kon’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. The living room mess could wait until morning, right now Tim needed to get some sleep.

 


End file.
